


The Bromeliaceae Conspiracy

by lokis_warrior_queen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock Holmes Experiments on John Watson, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, pineapple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:56:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokis_warrior_queen/pseuds/lokis_warrior_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock discovers that pineapple changes the taste of ejaculate and decides to do some experimentation to confirm - without telling John.  This is a Bit Not Good, but as it turns out a good blowjob will make up for a lot.</p><p>Mostly smut with a little fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bromeliaceae Conspiracy

Sherlock wasn’t allowed to to experiment on his flatmate (best friend) (colleague) (boyfriend). He had promised John, and a cross John meant no cuddles, no fingers through his hair, and no sex. The last, surprisingly, making the biggest impact on Sherlock - who had discovered that sex with John Watson was a good thing. 

The article he had stumbled across while doing research for a case was intriguing, to say the least, concerning different foods that when ingested, altered the taste of ejaculate. Not that Sherlock disliked the taste of John’s semen - he quite enjoyed the slightly bitter, salty taste.

Sherlock pressed his palm against his cock, half-hard again even after having a very satisfactory orgasm in the shower with John before John left for the clinic. He pushed aside the tea and toast that John had set on the table next to him and grabbed his notebook. Design of experiment, hypothesis, materials and data collection. Where was he going to get pineapple in the middle of winter?

\--------

When are you coming home? SH

I’ve ordered takeaway for dinner. SH

Take a cab, it will be faster. SH

I’m leaving now, see you soon.

 

John walked in to Baker Street to find a fire in the fireplace, dinner laid out, and one consulting detective waiting impatiently for his return. He hung up his coat and looked around surreptitiously, checking for the dust and/or debris that usually resulted from a bored Sherlock home alone all day.

“No cases on?”

Sherlock sighed. “One that was barely a three. Solved over the phone.”

John glanced into the kitchen, “no experiments going?”

“Nothing major, just research.” Sherlock sprung out of his seat and wrapped himself around John, rubbing his cheek against John’s hair. 

“What’s this?” John looked at the plate of stir fry from their usual Chinese takeaway that was definitely not his usual order.

“John, you are a doctor, surely you recognize the importance of a balanced diet including fruits and vegetables. I ordered you a stir fry with pineapple. It’s good for you, eat up.”

John started to giggle, which turned in chuckles and then a full belly laugh and he had to sit abruptly as he gasped for air. “Nutritional advice from Sherlock Holmes, oh this is rich. And what about you? Does that mean you’ll eat more than tea and toast every three days?”

Sherlock huffed and rolled his eyes, leaning over to spear a piece of pineapple from John’s plate. “Happy?”

“Hmm, this is quite good actually.” John ate the rest of his meal and began cleaning up the leftovers (mostly Sherlock’s) and storing them in the fridge, on the designated FOOD FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION - NO BODY PARTS shelf as Sherlock surreptitiously checked his watch. 

Precisely twelve hours later, John was awakened from a very pleasant dream where Sherlock was wrapping those plush lips around his cock to find one naked consulting detective sucking him off in reality as well.

“Sherlock, it’s...oh god...not even 7. What are you...Jesus...don’t stop now…” Watching those gray-green eyes looking up at him while those soft plush lips encircled his cock made his own eyes roll back in his head. John did not notice the considering look on Sherlock’s face as he swished John’s release around his mouth. 

Afterwards, Sherlock crawled up next to John and turned him on his side, wrapping his body around his doctor (blogger) (boyfriend) and rubbing his cock into the soft skin of John’s arse. As John’s breathing slowed, he turned and slipped his hand down to grip the cock that was rutting up against him. A firm grip on his cock, a hand slipping over his arse, and a tongue working his neck quickly sent Sherlock over the edge. 

John kissed his brilliant, gorgeous consulting detective boyfriend on the lips, then got up to get a flannel. He could have slept another half hour before he had to go to work, but being woken up with Sherlock’s mouth on his cock was not the worst alarm clock in the world, he supposed.

After his shower, John walked in kitchen to find a cup of coffee, toast, and a plate of pineapple waiting for him. “More pineapple? Where did you even get this, it’s in the middle of winter for god’s sake. And for the record, Sherlock, I don’t even like pineapple that much.”

“John, as we have established, a man of your age needs to be consuming a nutritionally complete diet consisting of a significant proportion of fruits and vegetables. Pineapple happens to be full of vitamins and antioxidants.”

“Yes, fine, a man of my advanced years - and by the way I’m not that much older than you, you berk - needs to eat better, but where did you get this? I know they don’t have fresh pineapple at Tesco’s right now.”

Sherlock waved a hand, as if swatting away a lazy fly. “Mycroft owed me a favor, so he had some flown in. Eat up John, or you’ll miss your train.”

John rolled his eyes, but began to eat the fruit. “Of course Mycroft would fly in fresh fruit from the tropics - no don’t tell me where it actually came from, I don’t want to know. And I don’t want to know what you did for Mycroft to get this in return either.”

John left for work, leaving a slightly breathless Sherlock at the breakfast table licking the taste of pineapple off his lips. As the door to 221B closed, Sherlock checked his watch and then pulled out his notebook. The experiment was going exactly as he had planned, and he wrote down his findings with an absent smile on his face.

Sherlock did a quick search for experiment phase 2 materials, then got ready to leave the flat. Google showed that the nutritional supplement store closest to the flat was a 20 minute walk away, but he was sure that he could cut that time at least in half.

He strode into the store exactly 10 minutes and 45 seconds after leaving Baker Street, rolling his eyes at the homeopathy display front and center. The things he would endure for John’s penis, honestly. 

Sherlock swept his eyes around the store, deducing customers and employees absently as he looked for the pineapple supplement. He swept off with a swirl of his Belstaff as a young man wearing an apron with the store’s logo blazoned on it started to approach. Sherlock scanned the rows of pill bottles, picking two out to compare and then making his selection.

The employee had finally caught up with Sherlock’s long legs and introducing himself, began to talk about the benefits of the supplement that Sherlock held in his hand. Sherlock huffed in irritation and began to turn away, but turned back as the man began to extol the virtues of the homeopathic remedies that were apparently on special this month.

“The anti-inflammatory effects are a positive of course, but the main reason I am purchasing this is to sweeten the taste of my boyfriend’s ejaculate. I don’t think your little molecule water is going to have the same effect, do you?” Sherlock gave the man his best “high-functioning sociopath” grin and stalked away, leaving the unfortunate employee red-faced and frozen in place with his mouth hanging open.

Back at Baker Street, Sherlock held the container of supplements he had just purchased and considered the best way to get John to ingest the capsules. John, the practical army surgeon, would scoff at nutritional supplements. Subterfuge would be required. 

He strode into the kitchen and flipped the kettle on, pulling four mugs out of the cabinet and lining them up on the table. He plunked a tea bag into the first one, and filled the other three with water, whiskey, and beer. That pretty much covered John’s typical beverage consumption. He took out four capsules and opened them into the mugs, then filled each mug with a representative amount of liquid.

Sherlock sampled each mug, observing and then tasting carefully to see if he could detect the additive. The water turned cloudy and tasted bitter, while the beer foamed up over the edge of its container. The tea and the whiskey, however, had no discernable change in flavour. 

For the next two days, Sherlock made sure to dose John with the supplement by slipping it into his tea. Sherlock also began ambushing John at regular intervals, snogging him breathless, then holding him down and working him by hand or mouth (or both). Often John, once recovered, would then flip their positions. 

The data collection phase might have stretched on for quite a while, as Sherlock found himself strangely reluctant to bring the experiment to a close. He had concluded that the pineapple supplement did have an effect on the taste of semen, and had even tested how long it took for the supplement to metabolise (12-24 hours). An unintended side effect of the experiment had the discovery that he quite liked performing oral sex on John as often as he could manage.

One morning after a late night spent chasing a jewel thief around, Sherlock was laying in bed, wrapped around his flatmate (partner) (doctor) (boyfriend), protesting wordlessly as John tried to leave. John struggled out of his grip, laughing, “Sherlock, I have to use the loo! I’ll be right back.”

Sherlock promptly rolled into the space that John had just vacated, burying his head into John’s pillow and inhaling his scent. He promptly fell asleep again, enveloped in the essence of John, barely waking when John returned and snuggled back into him.

The next time Sherlock woke, John was sitting on the side of the bed with a mug of tea. In his hand was a bottle of capsules, one that Sherlock recognized well. 

“Sherlock, what is this? And why was it hidden behind the tea?”

Sherlock rolled over and buried his head in the duvet, mumbling incoherently. John took advantage of the change in position and began stroking his arse, squeezing gently.

“How long have you been taking this? And what for? You would do much better to just eat more veg, you know.”

Sherlock lay still, trying to simultaneously avoid the conversation that John was trying to have whilst not discouraging the hand petting his arse. He gave in and flipped over, managing to end up with his head on John’s upper thigh which was starting to peek out of the dressing gown he was wearing over his pants.

He nuzzled his face into John’s leg, moving the dressing gown out of the way and lipping his way up John’s thigh.

“I know what you are doing, you know. Why don’t you want to tell me what this was for?”

“It was an experiment. Over now.” Sherlock waved dismissively and grabbed John’s waist, dragging him further onto the bed. He began to wrangle John into position, kissing his way into John’s clothes as he went. 

“Oh no you don’t.” John moved to straddle Sherlock, pinning his arms to the bed and then proceeded to suck a line of kisses from the cupid bow lips down the long white neck and across the pale chest of one cagey consulting detective. 

He nestled into Sherlock’s groin, laying one tan arm across a pale stomach and rubbing his face into a cock that was very interested in the current proceedings. Sherlock’s hips began to stutter upwards, impatient with the slow pace.

The hand on Sherlock’s hip tightened in warning and azure blue eyes fixed his in a glare, one that was not at all diminished by the cock resting on the cheek right underneath them. “Lay. Still.”

Sherlock was helpless before the Captain Watson voice, a fact that John knew full well and took advantage of often. He laid back and forced his limbs to stillness, trapped in his (flatmate) (SOLDIER) boyfriend’s compelling gaze.

His reward was immediate and forced a gasp from his lips. His head fell back as John began to lave his cock in earnest, forcing his brain offline. Sherlock whined as John took him to the edge of orgasm and then backed off, sucking bruises into pale inner thighs. He couldn’t control the twitching of his limbs anymore, and he was only vaguely aware of the vocalizations that were coming from his mouth.

“What was the experiment on, Sherlock?” John’s open mouth hovered just over the crown of his cock, hot breath gusting over the sensitive crown. 

The orgasm was so close it was clouding his mind. He couldn’t think about why he wasn’t supposed to answer John (oh god was that a tongue so close). Of course he could tell John, he could tell John anything. John loved him.

“The efficacy of Ananas comosus on...OHH” A warm wet lick completely short-circuited Sherlock’s brain, his stream of words stuttering to a stop as a loud groan escaped his mouth.

“Hmmm, don’t stop, what else?” John was back to hovering, cheek nestled lovingly against two fuzzy bollocks as he stared up at the detective.

“....on the composition of seminal fluid…” Sherlock panted, then snapped his lips closed.

John began to tease Sherlock, bring him close to orgasm and then backing off, sucking little bruises into pale thighs, nuzzling into a softly furred oxter, lipping the smooth arch on both feet. By the third iteration, Sherlock was keening, trembling with sensation, that sweet release so close but oh so frustratingly at bay.

John looked up through his lashes at the utterly wrecked creature above him, eyes bright and pupils dilated, angular cheekbones striped with pink, and that lovely sable mop of curls in disarray on the pillow. He delicately touched his tongue to the pearl drops dripping down the slit of Sherlock’s cock and then pulled back slightly, keeping his mouth open and warm breath ghosting over his lover.

“What was the experiment about Sherlock?” John held very still and expectant.

“Ananas comosus..seminal fluid...changes taste...uhhhhhggnnn JOHN!” Sherlock’s babbling turned into a wail as John’s mouth enveloped him and began to suck steadily. It was the vibrations that sent him over the precipice, John’s throat rippling as he chuckled. 

Sherlock came back to himself slowly, chest heaving and limbs twitching as he recovered from the magnificence of all that was John. Said (blogger) (doctor) (partner) lover was snuggled into his side, gently kissing his neck while slowly grinding a very erect cock against his hip.

“Sherlock, I love the way you taste. You don’t need change anything for me.” John licked his lower lip slowly, then sucked it into his mouth gently. The tip of his tongue dabbed delicately at the corners of his mouth as he smiled.

This presented a clear conundrum - should he tell John the true parameters of the experiment? Honesty was important to John, he knew. But experimentation without prior consent would be considered A Bit Not Good, certainly. Sherlock decided to postpone any further discussion by moving down and taking John’s cock directly into his throat.

The long low moan emanating from the head of the bed signified that this decision, if not the most straightforward, was at least met with enthusiastic approval by all parties. Sherlock could tell through vast data collection experience that John was close to his own (well deserved) orgasm. He waited until John was panting and trembling and slid his mouth of off the generous erection.

“Iwasnotthesubjectoftheexperiment.” He quickly wrapped his fingers around John’s cock and pumped quickly, applying the optimum amount of suction to the head in the way he knew John liked best. “Merelytestingthetheory.” Sherlock drew John’s cock as far into his throat as he could and swallowed rapidly while he massaged John’s perineum. 

John came with a shout, hips bucking wildly, head thrown back. Sherlock’s eyes watered as John’s cock rammed the back of his throat and he moved back slightly so that at least some of the ejaculate landed on his tongue instead of down his throat.

Sherlock smirked and swirled his tongue through the fluid collected on his tongue. “The experiment was somewhat of a failure actually. I find the taste of your semen quite pleasant no matter what you have ingested.”

John chuckled and tugged the consulting detective and renegade scientist up to the head of the bed. “No more experimentation without prior consent Sherlock - I mean it. Don’t think you can just slip whatever you want into my tea just because you are bored.” 

John leaned over to the bedside table and retrieved the now cold mug of tea and the supplement bottle. “And in order to validate your results, we are going to have to repeat this experiment of yours.” He handed Sherlock one of the capsules and raised an eyebrow.

Sherlock’s eyes widened and his cock, which had been laying quite contentedly flaccid on his thigh, gave a twitch. He did so love science...

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration for this story came from something I read that said that pineapple changed the taste of semen. I joked with my husband about running an experiment on him, then went to a supplement store to buy some Bromelain (pineapple extract). The store didn't have Bromelain and the employee wanted to know why I was buying it, I think so he could recommend an alternative. I didn't know how to tell this big burly weightlifter that I was buying it for my husband so I could change the taste of his semen. But I thought that Sherlock would have so such qualms in letting the employee know exactly why he was buying it.
> 
> As it turns out, Bromelain is also known for it's anti-inflammatory effects. I like to think Sherlock would consider that a plus if it helped John's shoulder as well.  
> http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC538506/
> 
> http://www.bbc.co.uk/sn/humanbody/truthaboutfood/sexy/spermtaste.shtml


End file.
